30
Lark
Something pulled me out of a deep sleep. I squinted up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what the hell had woken me. Then I heard it—the sound of boots on hardwood and something heavy hitting the wall.
“What is happening?” I asked, reaching across the king-size bed to turn on the bedside table lamp.
Sam groaned and rolled over, closer to me. He glanced at his phone. “It’s not even seven.”
I yawned dramatically and then heard the noise again. “God, I don’t know. Do you think someone is breaking into the apartment?”
“f**k,” he grumbled. Then he threw the covers off of himself. “I’ll go check it out. You stay here.”
He pulled on a pair of joggers and headed out into the living room. But I had no intention of staying here. If someone was breaking into my house, I wanted to ma
